Maximum Ride: Vertigo
by SweetMaple'sShade
Summary: (Taking place after FANG.) The Flock is heading back to Arizona after Fang's sudden departure, some new bird kids have busted out of a School in Siberia, Russia, and instead of meeting with his new gang, Fang has been kidnapped by a mysterious group of catboys and a crazy old lady dressed as a super villain. Not your average adventure, but it's bound to send your head spinning!


***Taking place after FANG, if I made any mistakes PLEASE let me know. Enjoy!***

Okay, so here's the thing.

I'm fifteen years old. I don't have a name, besides what the scientists call me: Specimen 4620. I was born here, in a lab. I live in a dog crate, and I'm pretty sure my back is going to be curved permanently if this keeps up.

Oh, and one other thing: I have wings.

Don't freak out; I'm pretty sure you know by now about the School and Itex and all that good stuff from Max and the Flock, right?

I've heard terrible things about them from the scientists here at the School—terrible for the scientists, that is. To me and my two siblings Specimens 4621 and 4622, they sound awesome.

Well, anyways, I've been dreaming for a long time that one day me and my little brother and sister are all gonna bust out of here and form our own Flock with some of the other experiments here at the School.

My little sister and brother aren't the only ones I want to bust out with. There's also this other boy my age: Abel. He's the only one of us specimens who have been given an official name, and the only one who is 100% human. Unlike me; I'm 98% human, 2% bird.

There's this one scientist though; she gave me a name. She calls me Blue Jay, because supposedly I'm part human and part jay. Well, that does explain my vibrant blue, black-striped wings. She hasn't told us her real name, but just lets us call her Misty.

Misty says that my little brother—who she calls Hawk—is part grey hawk. His wings are pale silvery-white, striped with black and dark grey.

My little sister—whom she named Dove—is part grey dove. Her wings are sleeker-looking than Hawk's and mine, and they look more like a sandy grey than pure grey.

We also have other abilities, besides being able to fly. I can talk in over 50 different languages, including different dialects as well. Hawk can hear and see farther than both Dove and I can _combined_. And Dove? Well, Dove is real handy with computers, and can bring down any firewall that stands in her way. Not a big deal? Well here's the thing: she can connect with computers using only her _brain. _They put a computer chip and a few wires and a small hard drive and who knows what _else _in her head a few days after she was born. Creepy scientist dudes…I swear…

Anyways, me and my mini-flock (Dove, Hawk, and Abel) were just idly sitting around in our cages, waiting for Misty to take us out on our morning walk, when KABOOM! The whole freaking lab freaking exploded right before our freaking eyes.

I also like to say freaking a lot, in replacement for that other word that Misty tells us not to use. Hint: it rhymes with _buck, muck, _and _Huck. _As in Huckleberry Finn, a book Misty read to me when I was younger. What if the H in Huckleberry was replaced with an F?

I am so immature.

After the smoke cleared, all of the scientist dudes were lying on the floor, sleeping or something, and Misty was unlocking my crate. "Hurry, Blue Jay." She said, swinging the door to the dog crate open. "Out, out! You see the hole?" She pointed to something over our heads. Yeah, I see that freaking huge-o hole in the roof.

"Yeah." I nodded. Misty smiled at me. "Good you know what to do."

Misty unlocked the crates of Hawk, Dove, and Abel, and just as the four of us (with Abel on my back) were about to take off, scientist dudes with sinister-looking machine guns burst through the broken laboratory doors, shouting stuff in Russian.

Oh yeah; our little prison is located in Siberia, Russia. Just thought you should know. Misty is one of the only American scientists working here.

"Fly, little birds!" Misty said, waving us away. "Go! I'll be fine! You just go—now!"

I nodded, fighting back the tears. "Come on, flock." I said, turning to the clouded, dark gray sky. "It's time to go. We're free now!"

And with that, the three of us spread our wings, and flew.

**(Max POV)  
**"Okay Flock, hurry up and finish eating. We've gotta get moving before something spots us and decides we'll make a nice mid-morning snack." I looked around warily as the Flock—or what was left of it, anyways—finished up their bacon on the bright orange canyon floor. We were in Arizona—at the Grand Canyon, to be exact—on our way to pay Dr. Martinez (my mommy dearest) a surprise visit. Because, you know, I could really use a break after getting my heart ripped out and stomped on by that butthead Fang.

So now there were only five of us—if you don't count our replacement butthead for the time being, Dylan. So yeah; now it's me, Iggy, Nudge, Gazzy, Angel, and Dylan. Oh, and Total, of course. So then we're…seven. Yeah. Seven.

Damn you, Fang.

I was in the middle of cursing Fang in my head when Gazzy let loose one of his...ahem, "gifts". Everyone dropped their food, damn near gagging on the atrocious smell. Hell, _I _almost passed out. I swear, one of Gazzy's "gifts" can easily take out a whole chopper-full of Erasers, hands down.

Hm. I think we should try that sometime. Maybe it would actually work, and it would save us one more can of "Flock Kick-Butt".

"Not hungry anymore," Iggy muttered, dropping his last strip of bacon. "Anyone have a doggie bag?"

"Doggie bag!?" Total demanded. Oh yeah, and did I mention that our little black Scottie-bird hybrid is also quite the chatterbox? Well, he is. "Why name a barf bag after a dog? That is—"

"It's okay, Total." Angel said. Angel, my baby. You know, my evil, conniving, scheming baby that kicked me out of the Flock and then took over, nearly getting us all killed.

Remind me again not to let a seven year-old take over my job as Flock leader.

"It's just an expression." Angel explained, petting Total's long black fur.

"Who came up with that?" Total demanded. "That is offensive to the canine species! It's atrocious! Vile! An evil to all dogs! It's immoral, I tell you! Immoral!"

"Yeah, yeah, okay. Ready?" I asked the Flock. Everyone nodded.

"Just say the words, Max." Dylan said, appearing beside me, sticking his thumbs through his backpack straps. He gave me one of his famous movie-star smiles, and I wanted to melt.

Only not really. Because Maximum Ride does not melt. Not ever.

"Up and away, gang!" I shouted, and we took off.

**(3****rd****Person POV)  
**Fang scowled at the sign on the café. Closed. And he was so close to making it, too.

He turned around and started walking down the dark, moonlit street, looking up at the stars. He found none—there weren't very many stars in the city, because of all the smog and lights.

Fang started to remember the star-speckled skies he had slept under with the rest of the Flock; Iggy, Nudge, Gazzy, Angel—and Max.

Fang sighed. Max. He missed her, as much as he hated to admit it. But he had a good reason for leaving; they were both too caught up in their little romance to focus on saving the world. And Dylan—that butthead. He had just dropped in out of absolutely freaking _nowhere, _and of course—since the universe seemed to just absolutely _loath _Fang—he just _had _to be Max's "perfect other half".

Well Max was probably fine now, flying hand-in-hand with Mr. Perfect and her merry band of mutants. Fang snorted. _Yeah. He drops in and now they're like a mommy and daddy for the Flock. But when it was me and Max, we get __**kicked out. **__The universe must really not like me. Well screw you too, universe._

Fang turned a corner and walked into a dark alley—worst mistake he's ever made, besides maybe leaving the Flock.

A hand grabbed his shoulder, jerking him backwards. Fang spiked his attacker with a sharp elbow, a grunt emitting from the assailant. Another slim hand grabbed Fang by the throat, crushing his windpipe and lifting him a few inches off the ground.

Fang unfurled his wings, knocking two of the goons to the ground as he flapped and kicked furiously. His shoe rammed into someone's ribcage, sending them sprawling. He took to the sky, only to be mercilessly dragged down by two more assaulters.

They pinned him to the ground, digging sharp claws into his arms and legs as he tried to escape. _Who are these guys? _Fang thought in a panic as they picked him up by the arms—and wings—and started carrying him towards a shady-looking black van. _Erasers? But they're all supposed to be dead!_

Fang found his limbs had been bound together as he was thrown into the truck, the goons jumping in along with him with a few loud _thumps _of boots against the dirty carpeted floor. "Who are you guys!?" Fang demanded, sitting up.

"Guys?" A woman's voice said curiously. "Such a rude, informal child. Isn't he, Romeo? Yes he is! Oh, you adorable little kitty, come here!" What followed was a thump of someone dropping to the floor, and then the purring of a cat and the woman's coos.

"Someone please tell me what the HELL is going on here?!" Fang snapped, turning towards the sound of the woman's voice. "Lady, who are you? Why're you kidnapping me? Do you work for the School!? Itex?! Who, dammit!?"

"Temper, temper," a light flickered on, revealing an older woman with stark white hair, otherwise smooth skin, and wearing the most ridiculous supervillain getup Fang had ever _seen. _Surrounding her were—holy crap, were those CATBOYS?

Fang had seen the Japanese cat-girl characters before, but these guys weren't cute and cuddly. They weren't _ugly, _but Fang was a guy, and it's just not right for a guy to say other guys are attractive. But anyways, back to the point—these catboys were probably supermodel-level-gorgeous to any girl, but to Fang, they were pure trouble. Their ears were higher on their head, soft and catlike, their hair was long and silky (much like Fang's own, but theirs couldn't even _compare _to the miracle that was Fang's hair), their teeth were sharp fangs, and their fingers ended in curved, deadly-looking claws.

"Who are you, lady?" Fang growled, eyeing the cat-human hybrids warily.

"That's Lady Elizabeth Abbott Curtis to you, bird-child!" The woman snapped, stroking a dark-haired, blue-slit-eyed catboy's silky tresses. "I am your new mistress until we get back to the School, where you will be disposed of _properly!" _

Disposed of? This can't be good. Fang looked around for an escape route, but found nothing. _Man, universe! Cut me some slack, would you?_

_No…_

_This isn't…this isn't right…_

_It didn't used to be like this…this isn't the same as…before…_

The specimen slowly opened his eyes, met with a watery amber vision of shadows—they were all looking at him, whispering, murmuring. The specimen lifted his head a bit, furrowing his eyebrows. He was breathing through his gills, as he was suspended inside of a long glass tube, which was filled with yellowish-brown fluid. His vision was blurry, and the voices were hard to hear with only his ears. But if he reached out with his mind, he could hear the people loud and clear.

"Shush, all of you! It's waking up!" A man shouted above the quiet murmurs. The scientists quieted down, and soon the specimen felt even more pairs of eyes on him, studying him patiently.

_What is this? What am I? Some kind of circus act? A zoological exhibit? _The specimen's temper flared, and the glass began to crack. _What's this? _He tilted his head slightly, watching as the scientists gasped in surprise. He lifted one hand and placed it on the crack. _Open, _he thought, and the glass tube exploded.

The scientists backed away in terror as amber fluid dripped down from the ceiling and their clothes, all except for one soaked man. He stood in the center of the room, gazing up at the specimen in awe.

The specimen stretched out his damp black wings and shook them out, spraying the walls and electrical equipment with the mysterious liquid. "Where am I?" The specimen asked in a soft, youthful voice. His black eyes were focused on the man, as he seemed to be the only one capable of speaking.

"You're in a place known as the School," the man replied, a jovial grin spreading across his face. "We have created you to fulfill a great purpose in the world, Specimen 4624."

"What purpose?" The specimen asked, tilting his head. Droplets of the fluid dripped from the ends of his choppy black hair, running down his bare torso.

"Serving us, of course!" The man clapped happily. "You were created to bring back a few stray experiments for us. I'm sure you'll have an easy time with that!"

"Is that all?" Specimen 4624 narrowed black, emotionless eyes at the scientist. "That is why I was created? To serve you? Like a dog?"

"Precisely! It may sound bad at first, but trust me, Specimen! You'll grow used to working for us very soon, I can assure you." He smiled gently, reaching out the Specimen. "Come, we have much to discuss, Specimen!"

"I don't think so," the Specimen replied coldly, eyeing the man's hand with a glint of disgust in his onyx eyes. "I refuse to serve the likes of you for the rest of my life."

"How dare you!" The man exclaimed angrily. "We created you, Specimen! You were made to serve us! You have no other choice!"

"Even so, I will not serve you." The Specimen stood, naked and unashamed. The scientists gasped as he held out one hand; the man below him began to choke. _Die, _the Specimen thought. _Die. _

The man stopped choking and collapsed onto the wet floor, dead. The Specimen looked back at the rest of the scientists; they were running for the exit, scrambling over one another to get out before the experiment-gone-wrong could reach them with his telekinesis.

"Those humans wore clothes," the Specimen thought out loud. He spotted some folded clothes on one of the tables, and assumed that they were most likely for him.

After slipping into the dark-colored clothes, the Specimen walked out of the lab with his hands stuck casually in his pockets. He walked down the hall carelessly, knowing they would all be too afraid to approach him.

However, he had been mistaken, apparently, because an older woman was waiting for him at the exit. "Hello, dear," she said, reaching up to pinch his cheek. The Specimen scowled, brushing her hand away. The woman chuckled. "Of course, of course, straight to business." She turned around and called into the van. "Dears, come out with our little present!"

A swarm of catboys jumped out of the van with a struggling Fang squished between them. They shoved him harshly onto the floor and licked their fangs, eyeing his wings and probably thinking, _Chicken wings for dinner!_

Fang looked up at the creeper before him and scowled; this guy was scary. Seriously, he looked like he wanted to stab anyone who came near him. _Good luck getting a girlfriend, bud. _Fang thought, smirking, but then he slowly realized something.

This boy looked exactly like him.

_Yikes, _Fang winced. _Is that really what I look like to other people? Ouch…no wonder Max picked Dylan over me. I look like a serial killer._

"What is that?" The clone spat, his lip curling in disgust.

"This is Fang, the bird-child you will be posing as. I assume you know the plan?" The woman inquired.

"Yes," the clone replied. "I know the plan. I'll be leaving now." He glared at Fang. "But what will become of him?"

_Good luck trying to pose as me; you sound nothing like me. _Fang thought in amusement. Was this guy British? He sounded like it.

"He will be staying here for a while until his 'Flock' joins him." The woman chuckled, petting one of her catboys on the top of the head. "Oh, you sweet little thing, come here, my precious!" The catboy bent his head towards her, letting her scratch him behind the ears.

The clone raised an eyebrow at the peculiar sight and rolled his eyes. He spread his wings, got a running start, and took off.

"They are currently taking shelter in the Grand Canyon, in Arizona!" The woman called after him.

_Arizona, _the Specimen thought. _I feel…I feel like I know where that is. I'll just follow my instincts, I suppose._

**Author's Note:  
Hey guys, this is the second story I post on FanFiction, my first being Omen of Thunder, a Warrior Cats fiction. If you like either of them, please let me know in the reviews and I'll be sure to respond in the next chapter!**

**Sincerely, SMS (SweetMaple'sShade) **


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